Tomorrow I start a two-week work tour that kicks off with one of my favorite European cities, and ends with one of its bleakest. Those who know what I do should watch the news to see the destructive wake (or possible flames of glory) I will leave in my trail.
The only really good thing about work travel is sampling the local candy. I have been collecting candy memories ever since I was little, and I'm going to pull some out for you from my Europe file:
Madrid is where I first discovered candy stores like the ones in Lavapies, where one could buy candies lovingly packaged in plastic baggies, and selling for 25 pesetas at 2 a.m. on the street next to the drug dealers peddling their wares.
Fribourg will forever be connected to Cailler, sweet Cailler...and dental problems.
Istanbul makes your fingers stick together.
NYC is where all candy dreams are realized: Dylan’s Candy Bar, The Chocolate Bar, Jaques Torres….
Riga: a cheap whore pushes her robe past her thigh, revealing a shoddy negligee as she lifts a bottle of vodka and pours it into a vat of chocolate.
London means only one thing: crappy, salmonella-infested Cadbury’s chocolate.
Fez will always make me think of nougat and dysentery.
Categories: Eurovision, Spain, Switzerland, Turkey, England, Cadbury, j.torres, Morocco, candy